


And If You Fail, Try Try Again

by milkyy



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Kama Sutra, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:17:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2621399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyy/pseuds/milkyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He cursed the stupid ero-magazine with its stupid acrobatic positions, and even stupider Koujaku for bringing it home with him and thinking for a second that the two of them could pull this off."</p>
            </blockquote>





	And If You Fail, Try Try Again

Okay, so the truth was, Aoba didn’t like this. 

He knew was supposed to be feeling sexual, and liberated. But there was nothing attractive about squatting up over his boyfriend like this, legs spread like he was preparing to birth a baby seal. 

Behind him, one arm was trembling to balance the weight of his body on the futon while the other fumbled to position Koujaku’s slippery cock between his thighs. 

He cursed the stupid ero-magazine with its stupid acrobatic positions, and even stupider Koujaku for bringing it home with him and thinking for a second that the two of them could pull this off.

“Mnnh, Aoba, you need some help?” Koujaku’s eyes were half open, smoldering. From down there, things looked just peachy. Koujaku’s expression was warm with arousal and anticipation, breathing steady, and there was hint of amusement in his voice. His lips followed suit, smirking mischievously.

Aoba’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he snipped back, annoyed that his boyfriend would even consider finding this funny seeing that it was his idea in the first place. “Just one second.”

At this point, Aoba was more determined to prove to himself that he could get into this position than anything else. They were so close. He could feel it. Literally. The swollen and slightly cum sticky cockhead was guided further back along Aoba’s skin, its heat getting closer and closer.

Koujaku’s expression contorted and Aoba considered making a comment, when his own groin crackled with anticipation, his hips popping up and making him momentarily lose his balance.

“Woah, woah, Aoba. Careful.” Koujaku’s expression had tightened a little as well. He was caught in a predicament himself, arms positioned back behind him so he could push hips up into the air and meet Aoba half way.

For a while, Koujaku seemed unfazed by the sheer ludicracy of this—of course with his rippling abdominals and strong arms, he chose this position out of all the other positions in the book (probably) with the mindset that _Yes, after years of training, my body is in prime sexual condition for this. (_ Meanwhile, Aoba was brooding over why he chose to eat that last donut yesterday—weren’t three enough?).

But now, his boyfriend teetered dangerously too, his arms tensed, fingers wriggling. It was as if he were battling his desire to blossom into his role as prince charming and steady Aoba; or at least save his own cock from the imminent doom it faced if either of them happened to lose their balance.

It was the most creative they had ever gotten with sex. And if they weren’t careful, it could be the last time they had sex.

“Whoever thought of this position was either a circus performer or a sadist,” Aoba grumbled.

“The magazine said it was supposed to be recommended by a sex therapist,” Koujaku mused under heavy breath, and for the first time, Aoba wondered exactly where Koujaku found this magazine in the first place, and why he thought they were in need of a sex therapist.

But before he thought to ask, Koujaku’s cock brushed his rim. The sensation of it immediately sent a zing down his thighs, making his back arch.

“Oh, mmh.” Aoba bit his lower lip, eyes threatening to wrench shut. Koujaku bucked, his cockhead prodding, determined to push its way inside. “Ohh, ohh fuck.” Every muscle in Aoba’s face suddenly slacked, his mouth popping open in an attempt to release some sort of moan. His arm balanced on the futon wobbled, his thighs begging for stability. Normally, Aoba wouldn’t have rushed this (as much as he hated to admit it, it was cute watching Koujaku’s facial features lose their usual coherence), but at this point it was either sink or be sunk, so without further ado, he allowed Koujaku’s penis to push through the puckered wall of muscle and enter him. 

“Aoba yes.”

Aoba’s eyes squeezed shut as he took Koujaku in. It hurt—damn it hurt—but no matter how slow Aoba tried to take things, his arms only had so much strength and gravity only had so much patience. It clutched his hips and dragged him downward, letting Koujaku’s length plummet inside of him.

It didn’t help that Koujaku was feeling lively and wanted to continue the bucking motion from before. Aoba had to wiggle his foot over and stab a toe into Koujaku’s ribs, hissing through his teeth, “Wait. Wait. Not yet.” 

“Are you, ah, are you alright?”

Aoba gritted his teeth. 

“Mildly.”

“Do you want to stop? We can always go back to normal.”

Normal. Normal, vanilla sex—just like always, under the bed sheets with the lights off, nice and safe.

“No. Just…ah one second.” 

It took a moment to adjust. Aoba’s thighs quivered under his weight, arms begging for a break. Luckily, Koujaku was being a good sport.

Granted, Aoba would have preferred that Koujaku not focus his attention on his ass during all of this, but hey, a guy needed to pick and choose his battles. And right now, getting himself to move was the only mission on his mind.

After a few more short puffs of air through pursed lips, and a pep talk— _It’s a pushup. You’ve done pushups before. Maybe a while ago…and maybe not while on top of your boyfriend’s…umm…but hey, the skills are still technically the same. You can do this Aoba. You’ve got this_ —he decided that the time to move was now or never.

“Aoba, ah, you…are you ready?” Koujaku asked in that tight, half-whispering voice that was just as funny as it was sexy. Tonight, it happened leaned on the funnier side; the way his body was arched made his voice come out in a choked, almost kazoo-like wheeze.

Aoba sucked in a breath of air, pressing his lips together tight, a familiar prickle starting to bubble in his belly. Okay, okay. It was not that funny.  

The bed behind them squeaked loudly. Koujaku made some sort of grunt noise, trying to reposition himself. Aoba whimpered, not out of pleasure, but rather in pure desperation.

Here they were, two friends, two lovers, exploring a new form of humping. It was innovative. Fresh. Probably the new hip thing to do. 

Aoba experimentally lifted his hips feeling Koujaku’s cock slide from him. It was good, almost good enough to overpower the soreness starting clench at the muscles in his arms and legs. Aoba’s body was tired and they hadn’t even begun. Feeling a little disappointed, he let out a moan, hoping to get Koujaku to participate. “Mnnh, ah yes.” 

Koujaku’s length slid from him, inch by inch, completely filled out from root to tip. A small gasp shuddered from his own throat at the sensation of it, scorching heat exiting his body at deliciously slow pace.

“Oh Koujaku, fuck yeah.”

He opened one eye, glancing down at Koujaku. No reason in particular. Just a quick check, to make sure he was fairing well too.

The look on the man’s face was beyond anything Aoba could ever describe. The pleasure was certainly there; though it was mixed with a concoction of red-faced restraint, will power, and sheer misery and if Aoba were doing anything else, he would have teased him for looking so constipated.

Aoba’s whole body trembled, humiliation and amusement rumbling together in his belly. He would not laugh. He would not laugh. There was nothing remotely funny about this at all.

“Pfft.”

Aoba tried to swallow it but it was too late. His whole body came caving in, and he just sat there, dangling between the edge of the bed and Koujaku, giving tiny little snorts. He could hear Koujaku questioning him, and bless his heart, the poor guy sounded terribly confused—but even now, just the sound of his boyfriend’s voice was too funny to bear. 

“A-Aoba?” 

Aoba’s ribs ached. “I’m…I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry I really can’t.”

“Ah, Aoba did I do something wrong?”

“No, you’re fine.” Aoba continued to laugh.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Aoba opened his mouth, hoping some form of intelligible words (and maybe if he were lucky, a sentence) would come out, but all he could think about was how silly the both of them looked and he just squeaked, “Koujaku I can’t.”  

Koujaku’s expression tightened. He looked legitimately concerned. 

“Aoba, are you hurt? Are you hurting.”

Koujaku tried to pull out. But the way they were positioned there was no room for error, and the loss sent a debilitating quiver down Aoba’s spine. And like London Bridge, Aoba came tumbling down. 

“Damn, damn, fuck ow.”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Aoba flopped onto his side; Koujaku curled up into a ball beside him. There was a moment where everything was still. A dog barked outside. A bike whirred past. They were both alive. Both intact. Just laying on the floor, looking at each other.

Koujaku reached a hand out to tenderly finger at Aoba’s mop of hair splayed over the floor. Aoba bit his lip. “I think you killed my dick,” he said after a moment. For the accusation, Koujaku seemed pretty light hearted.

“Did I? Is it?” Aoba glanced down.

Sure enough, Koujaku’s once proud cock had deflated between his legs, looking cross in its defeat.

“It’s alright,” Koujaku said back, with the faintest bit of a smile. “Though I’m not sure my insurance will cover the medical bills for a broken dick.”

A grin worked its way across Aoba’s features all on its own. “Maybe we should call them and ask if it’s on your plan.”

Aoba wasn’t sure which one of them started laughing first—his shoulders just began to shake and then his entire body was wracked with an emotion that he couldn’t decipher. Was he laughing or crying, or just simply taking in the fact that he just collapsed on top of his boyfriend, broke his penis, and probably ruined their sex life forever?

Koujaku had turned his face into his bicep and was laughing uncontrollably in that way when his voice got all high pitched and cute; if his face weren’t covered, Aoba could watch as his scarred nose scrunch and his eyes squeezed shut, but for now, just hearing his voice was more than enough.

Goodness, Aoba wanted to kiss him. And make love to him. But this time, under the bed sheets with the lights off. Nice—and safe—vanilla sex.

And here they were again, two friends, two lovers, doubled over in pain and vowing to just leave some things to the pros. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the story and have an idea, message me @ milkysmoon.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading! Yay~
> 
> ٩(*ゝڡ◕๑)۶♥


End file.
